


Love, Shots, and the Walt Star

by UlternateFreak



Category: Descendants (2015)
Genre: Beach House, Birthday, M/M, Underage Drinking, Wishes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 11:57:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6194308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UlternateFreak/pseuds/UlternateFreak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos had never been one for parties – in fact, he was very much so a wall flower – or less than that actually – he was a vine belonging to a wall flower...but perhaps being drunk, this one time, hadn't completely been a bad thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love, Shots, and the Walt Star

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! I've taken some time away from my other Descendants fic - that's not to say that I'm not currently working on it now (for I am), I just wanted to get something out, something unrelated, because I've been in the mood.  
> I hope this is decent. Lol - also, fair warning, I didn't proof read this up to my usual standards so I apologize if there are more than the usual handful of mistakes.  
> -Prompted by my own outings while at parties with friends. Aren't drunk gatherings just the best? X3

     ..............................................................................................

 

     Carlos tossed back the tiny red cup in an instant, swallowing the contents of the luke-warm liquid – but immediately regretted it as soon as the rounds of cheers met his ears. Whatever he had consumed had tasted horrible – in fact, it had burned the very walls and cavern of his throat and mouth.

     Why he ever drank was a mystery – or rather he played it as a mystery to avoid the truth, which was that he did it strictly because others did too. Back on the Isle, real alcohol had always been a delicacy – it was rare, mostly because the royals had tended to be rather stingy with their booze. Yes, they drank – very lightly some might say but they still took time to divulge themselves within such acts. Mal had always said that it was a waste, mostly because it meant that those on the Isle couldn't ever have enough of it to truly have a wickedly wild time. There had been, of course, alternatives – such as the bitter pumpkin drink or cider-what's-it-called, but those were even more fowl than true liquor.

     “What is that?” Jay called out to him, leaning in close to maneuver around Audrey and the others, “your third shot?”

     “You say that as if it's a bad thing,” Carlos answered.

     “It is,” the taller teen said, “I'm on my tenth, dude – Lonnie's on her ninth. Come on, live a little. This is real alcohol – and there's plenty to go around!” Another round of cheers murmured round as Carlos turned on his heels to head elsewhere.

     He had never been one for parties in truth – in fact, he was a wall flower – less than that actually – he was a vine belonging to a wall flower. Perhaps it had something to do with his upbringing, if and when Cruella had decided to entertain company – Carlos had been forced to act as a server, cleaner, and planner – along with his two so called friends – henchmen – at the time. Then came his infamous house party – a feat that had only been prompted by Mal herself as some sort of scheme to destroy Evie.

     Speaking of such, both girls were currently pressed up together mid-dance – music blaring to an ear-drum shattering level. One wouldn't have really guessed that the two were once enemies – or rather that Mal had hated Evie dearly so once upon a time ago. To be fair, most wouldn't have guessed that the four of them hadn't always been close either – for they seemed practically inseparable at times. To have Mal – one needed Evie – and to have Evie, one needed both Jay and Carlos. Perhaps, in a way, one could argue that Ben was now included in that situation, seeing as he tended to be around them when not on strict duties for the Kingdom. Carlos stopped in his tracks, his face still looking to both Mal and Evie. Where was the King at anyhow? Had he gone off already – too intoxicated to even properly show himself at his own party? Yes, it was true – this was Ben's party – for he had just turned seventeen and as a show of trust and such his parents had allowed him to throw a party at their summer home that overlooked the Caspian Sea. It had been meant to be a rather quiet affair but Mal had quickly changed that as soon as she learned that alcohol was easier to come by in Auradon. She had always known that all her life of course, but had never attributed that the young Auradonians relished in such affairs themselves outside of their boring parents. Teenagers were teenagers though.

     Carlos came back to his senses and wandered down a hall that overlooked a strand of beach. Here, sat a patio – which was really more or less a vast floor of wooden floorboards that tended to creak under any such weight.

     He peered outward, watching as the stars glimmered just over the horizon – the wind dancing among his white strands of hair. It was most likely very late – possibly way past two or even three in the morning. And though he had only divulged in three shots, he was already starting to feel a little light-headed. It wasn't an entirely pleasant feeling, yet neither was it completely unpleasant. If only he could say the same about the taste in his mouth.

     “Hey.”

     Carlos turned to spot Ben standing behind him – his hair aghast, shirt unbuttoned, and dopey smile neatly in place. He had supposed that the King would have been farther gone than this – for though he looked disheveled he was still managing to maintain balance and actual speech.

     “What – what, what are you doin' out here Carlos?”

     He chuckled. Perhaps he had spoken too soon.

     “Nothing,” he answered, sitting on the deck as the wind caressed his face. He loved the wind – he loved the night – but newer, and most importantly, he loved the beach. The Isle hadn't had a beach – or, perhaps it did but the barrier hadn't allowed them to journey it – either way, Carlos had missed out on such a grand and magical place.

     “Why are you – out...here?”

     “Needed air.”

     “Oh.” Ben smiled down at him – and brought a single hand to drape over his bare stomach. And if Carlos had stared longer than normally at the King's chest and tummy than it was strictly due to the alcohol playing with his attention span and reaction time.

     “Do you mind,” Ben laughed and then pelted over to catch himself with his palms against his knees, “if I sit by you?”

     “No,” Carlos answered honestly.

     The blond continued to smile, obviously pleased by the response and squarely sat upon the deck – his thigh neatly pressed and flushed up against Carlos's own. Any other time and he would have scooted over but the sudden rush of body heat radiating from the other felt nice – or perhaps it was the sudden intoxication of Ben's distinct aroma... Or was it-?

     “Having fun?”

     “Huh?” Carlos asked, raising a brow.

     “Fun?” Ben asked again, “are you having it?”

     “Oh,” he nodded, “yes – definitely.”

     “Good,” the other laughed, “that's good.” And as if to further his point, he gently patted him on the back, all the while giving into yet another toothy grin. “I'm glad that you're...having fun.”

     “Really?” Carlos chuckled.

     Ben nodded. “Yeah, 'cause you look fun when you're having fun.”

     He chuckled once more. “Do I really?” If it had been anyone else talking to him like this then he would have found the entire situation a bit awkward, maybe even a little sad – but this was Ben here – and he was simply being, for lack of a better word, cute. As usual.

     “Yeah,” Ben nodded.

     It was kind of a surprise to the younger boy really. He had always pictured Ben to be some clean crisp picture of holiness and pureness, but the boy drank a lot when he got down to it. He had shared, briefly, a bit earlier that he enjoyed drinking – but that he had only ever gotten drunk four times in his life – that was, at the very least, four times more than what Carlos would have guessed. He supposed though that the King, then Prince, must have drank a bit alongside his folks at traditional gatherings and had simply always consumed a tad too much over the course of a boring evening. For he had never drank with friends – a fact that he had announced nearly an hour or so back. Had that been during Carlos's first or second shot?

     “That's good,” he said, smirking to himself as the King began to bobble his head up and down. “I mean, it's good to know that I look like I'm having fun when I'm having fun.”

     Ben nodded once again – then, “I like the ocean...it moves me.”

     Carlos turned back to the surf. “Me too.”

     “Especially at night,” Ben continued, “it just looks so...fun. It even sounds fun – everything's fun.” He chuckled, “but more than that, it's kind of calming but...not.” He burst into giggles once more, and brought his hands to his face. “I think I've had a lot, Carlos – I probably shouldn't drink anymore...”

     “How much have you had?”

     “I don't remember,” he laughed, “I just feel like it's too much. Or it's almost getting to too much.”

     “Got it,” Carlos giggled, “okay then, I won't let you drink anymore.”

     “Unless it's with you,” the other then said, “because I would love to drink with you – but only you. Only you.”

     He nodded. Before them, a wave crashed at the shoreline.

     He didn't want to think too much of Ben's words – for they were simply that, words. Drunk words. And yet...well, to hear just those strings of words brought a sense of warmth into his own belly. Nearly all of Ben's words did that to him.

     “Hey look – it's the Walt star!”

     Carlos turned to the other. “What-?'

     “The Walt star,” Ben said again, “you know, that one bright star where dreams are made.”

     Carlos peered towards the heavens. “Which one? That one?”

     “No,” Ben answered, “that one – right there.” Ben pointed off into the sky but he was swaying a bit too much to properly guide him.

     “That one?” Carlos tried again.

     “No,” Ben chuckled, “that one-!”

     He turned to the King, “I have no idea which one you're pointing to – there are too many.”

     “Here,” Ben said, seizing him by the arm, “I'll show you.” He pulled the other close until he was practically sitting within his lap and then took his hand into his own until he was guiding it off into the heavens.

     “That one,” he then said, his breath encircling around Carlos's ear and down his cheek.

     He immediately shuttered and fought back a blush but followed the trail of his hand till his eyes hoped off and away from his fingertips. “It's the big one that sits next to the right of the little tiny one. Do you see it?”

     Carlos nodded.

     “It's called the Walt star,” Ben continued, “mom and dad says that if you wish on it – and the night is just just just right, your wish will come true, but only if you're prepared to deal with it or something...” He chuckled and brought their hands down to lay within what was now Carlos's lap. “Wishes come true not free.”

     The younger boy nodded as he watched Ben's hand sit idly on his thigh – his own hand still nearly entwined with it. Around him, Ben's bare legs sprawled out – one on each side.

     “Well?” Ben said.

     “Well what?” Carlos asked, still staring at the others legs.

     “Did you wish for something? Who knows, maybe tonight is the night.”

     Carlos looked to the star once more. “...I don't think that star can help me.”

     “O-oh?” Ben stuttered, “and why not?”

     “Because,” he said, turning to face Ben directly – their noses nearly touching, “what I want is,” he looked to the floor, “...well, it's something that I can't have.”

     Ben's brows furrowed together as Carlos untangled himself from the other.

     “You goin' inside?” He sounded depleted for a second, as though he was actually wounded by the sound of his own words.

     “Yeah,” Carlos nodded, “I think I should go lay down...I'm feeling tired.”

     Ben nodded, but his body language now confused Carlos.

     “...are you alright?”

     “Me?” He asked, “Yeah – definitely...” He turned towards the surf.

     Carlos frowned.

     Now perhaps he had read too much into that gesture, and yet for some reason – Ben's sudden change in demeanor was irking him. So he paused and waited.

     “How about you?” He then asked.

     Ben looked up.

     “What?”

     “Are you...?” Carlos peered to the beach once more himself, “are you tired?”

     Ben gently nodded – as though he was quite unsure, “yeah...a bit.”

     “Do you wanna-?,” he fault back an even fiercer blush than from before and turned towards the King, “maybe,” his words fell – even from his own mind. “Uh, well...” Perhaps he was being stupid – maybe he had read those signs wrong. Why would Ben have gotten upset with his departure after all – why?

     Ben simply stared up at him – with the moon gently washing him within a ghostly-lit light.

     He looked...

     “Do you,” he tried again – stupid-stupid-stupid – “wanna help me find a place to sleep...?”

     A pause fell – Carlos nearly died on the spot right there and then, but then, “with you?” Ben asked.

     Carlos shrugged, “if you want – I just...I don't want you to have to sleep on the floor tonight if we can just find a place to share before anyone else,” – his face burned brightly – “but if you don't wanna it's-”

     “No-no,” Ben cut in, “sleep sounds nice.” He smiled. “Really nice actually.” He brought up a hand to rake through his hair.

     Carlos nodded. “Okay.”

     “Okay.”

     Silence.

     “Could you?”

     Carlos looked to him.

     “Would you,” Ben corrected, “help me up? I'm kinda...yeah, need help.”

     “Oh, right.”

     He seized the King by the torso and rose him up to his full height then, acting more as a support beam then actual strength but still.

     “Your hands are warm,” Ben said.

     Carlos flushed and quickly pulled them off from where they had lingered on his lower hip. “Sorry.”

     “Don't be,” he giggled, “it felt nice.”

     “Are you cold?”

     “A bit.”

     “Lets get inside then,” he offered, placing his hand on his back as he brought the other into the same hall as from before. But instead of heading straight down and into the main room – where the others were still dancing and drinking, and enjoying their drunken stupor – he turned them both into the adjacent hall and pulled open the door at the end of it. Much to his relief, it was empty – and the bed had been untouched.

     “A twin,” Carlos hummed, mostly to himself, “I guess I could just...have the floor.”

     “We could both fit.”

     He turned to Ben as the other closed the door behind them. “'Sides...it's cold.”

     Carlos flushed yet again but made no effort to protest – he had simply nodded and had slipped into the covers, kicking off his shoes in a single motion. Ben had done the same, but had also stripped himself of his shirt. And if Carlos had once again stared longer than usual, well – he had still been under the influence.

     “...can I ask you something?”

     “What?” Carlos asked, his eyes leaving the ceiling. When he had started staring at it, he hadn't known but he had been.

     “A question,” Ben said, “I have one.”

     “Oh,” he nodded, “yeah – sure. Ask it.”

     “What is it that you want but can't have?”

     Carlos frowned.

     “You could trust me,” he then continued, “I won't – I won't tell anyone.”

     “It's not that,” he simply said.

     Ben nodded, but then maneuvered himself closer to the boy – bringing the other into his arms.

     “It's okay if you don't want to tell me,” he whispered. All at once Carlos was basked within the smell of alcohol, and though he had fully expected to gag – the smell had enticed him. For it had been sweet – still a bit bitter – but there had been a hint of something else within it, a lingering sweet smell that had nearly overpowered the bitterness.

     “It's not that I don't want to...It's just – I can't...”

     Another pause fell – at this rate they were going to-

     “Can I tell you what I wished for?”

     He immediately turned to the King, his eyes suddenly filled with complete and utter curiosity. He hadn't even considered that other had wished for something likewise – for he hadn't mentioned doing so. Thinking about it now though, it had made complete sense that the other would have.

     “Yeah.”

     Ben momentarily looked away but then brought his hand up to Carlos's face. And ever so gently – as though he had feared that he would break him, he brought his thumb to swipe across his cheek and over his bottom lip.

     “I,” he said, “wished for something that might not have wanted to be wished for.”

     Carlos flushed. The other simply continued with his musings.

     What was this – why was Ben being so touchy-feely tonight? Was it the alcohol? Or-?

     “But,” he continued, “I want them to know,” he leaned in closer, “that I wished for them.”

     The kiss had been sweet – gentle – nearly non-existent, but it had left Carlos reeling all the same.

     “Why did you do that?”

     Ben gently smiled, his hand still neatly placed upon his cheek. “Because I wanted to.”

     “You're drunk,” he then whispered.

     “Yeah,” the other nodded, a smirk gently playing across his features, “but I've still always wanted to do that. I just needed some liquid courage, I guess.” He giggled – Carlos flushed, darker than ever before.

     “I think,” Carlos then said, looking Ben directly in the eyes now, “ that we might have wished for the same thing...”

     Ben immediately pulled the other into another kiss – and though it had been a bit more sloppily done, a bit more animalistic in nature, it had left Carlos feeling drunker than ever before. And perhaps – well, perhaps being drunk, this one time – he thought – wasn't completely a bad thing.

 


End file.
